Johanna Shapiro, PhD
Your spine is just a bunch of bones
Arranged in some kind of order
To hold you erect
To differentiate you from the apes
But when the spine fails
When it crumbles in on itself
When the discs compress, bulge, rupture
Then you meet your essential nature
Crawling about on the floor
You realize you are
Nothing more than a grunting, squealing
Creature without stature
Quadruped as you were meant to be
Concentrated on barest survival
Who will ever believe
You were once a person